The ghost of a smile played about his lips for a moment.He could practically taste the scorn flung at him when she spoke the word 'warlord', he could feel the hatred fuming off of her that his presence enacted. That she spoke to him in such a unrepentant manner was one of the reasons he had chosen her so long ago and lifted her to his right hand. People like her kept him humble, reminded him that the air of pomp and power that came with such positions was not meant to go to his head. She was a blade with no handle, with care deadly, without caution, cutting oneself.

"It is good to see that even the long years that weigh down on us all have not changed some things."He spoke into the flame, keeping his eyes locked on the dancing element."To answer your question my lady..." a moment passed as he himself reflected on it then closed his eyes and let a soft chuckle escape him. "...a bit of both I think. Fear and Wonder are powerful tools to be used in conjunction with one another. Keep the men in awe and they will be a little more keen to obey. As for the light..." He shifted position, crossing his arms behind him, hands open grasping his wrists. He stood at the hearth and glanced upon the painting above it. A vast mural depicting a scene of tranquility. A sea of green, woodlands, a small gazebo structure in which a maiden played a lyre among the flowers of the earthen floor. He was somewhat surprised she still had it. He had spent the better part of a year working on it as a gift for her so many years ago...he kept his gaze upon it as he spoke.

"Shall we say that the light no longer holds everything it once promised. I look upon it and see a way of change that sickens me, where petty men play pompous kings and grow fat and lazy off the work of the people...."That smile ghosted again for a moment."...then again, I suppose you would say the same about me."

He turned and looked at her for a moment, straight into her eyes, as if looking through her.He closed his eyes after that moment and bowed his head."Forgive my intrusion, I had only wanted to bring word to you that I unlocked the Hall of Devices and brought you that which I took away oh so long ago."He rested his hand on a small side table and the unmistakable clink-clink of metal and chain on wood.He turned away, taking in the mural once more, feeling the weight of his years for a single moment...then the Deathand took on his fearsome, passive, gaze again.

"I take it everything is in order?"

Cruor Vult

Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion, simultaneously the source of our greatest strength, and our greatest weakness.

His decision to retrieve the pendant should not have surprised her. Scarlet knew how hopeless the situation was, how desperate the Order had become. Yet when she saw what it was Kaome brought, she nearly cried out and her hands tightened their grip on the sides of the tub, knuckles turning sheet-white from the pressure.

At a glance, it did not seem particularly special. Nothing about its appearance betrayed even a hint of power. The chain was white gold, simple and well-wrought. Attached to it was a sapphire, perfectly cut and spherical in shape, about a half-egg in size. The sapphire was encased within more white gold wrought in the shape of an eye. Simple, almost inconspicuous. But it still frightened her. It excited her as well, to be sure, but the fear cut deeper, an old, familiar friend.

Still, Scarlet pretended to ignore it. A hungry, tentative glance, and then it was out of sight as she turned her head back to Kaome. She sank into the water to her shoulders, head resting against the back of the tub, arms laid out on either side of it, legs kicking up water sporadically. Laughing, she asked, "Do you mean to court me with pretty baubles, my lord?" A slight, teasing smile lit up her face. "Or is it that you wish to collar me, to mark me?" Her eyes narrowed slightly at this last question, but the smile never left her face.

"To answer you, yes, everything is as it should be. The women of the Rose all await their deaths quite eagerly, I should say." Then, remembering how he had gazed at the painting held above the hearth, she added, "Some even seem as though they might regret dying."

The Deathand slowly nodded his head as she spoke of her soldiers and their condition of readiness.He chuckled at her former comments in the back of his mind, addressing them with his own.

"Maybe once..." He began with humor on his lips. "...but I fear the time for courting has long passed us by..."He turned away from the mural and gazed back into the hungry flames as he let an arm lean against the wall, feeding it his doubts and despairs, his worries and woes. It crackled and flared, as if a drop of oil had been tossed into the fire. His eyes reflected the chaos of those flames and his features flickered as shadows danced across him.

"Besides...you and I know we were marked the day we were born." He clenched his hands into fists."As if fated to be the harbingers of our own downfall..." he whispered.Standing abruptly from his impromptu lean against the wall he bowed to her formally and let his eyes touch her for a moment. He saw the mirth that went with the laugh he thought he wouldn't hear except on the field of war and a small smile played about him.

"I take my leave Sister Scarlet." He stood from his bow. "From this moment on you may do as you like...I will not have shackles to those that deserve it least. Go...if you would...and with my blessing upon you."The mantle wrapped about him and he was gone again.

Cruor Vult

Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion, simultaneously the source of our greatest strength, and our greatest weakness.

"Brute - your intimidation - is ineffective - and unwelcome. You are here - because we ordered. You will obey - because we desire it. You exist - at our sufferance. It is - the Chief - you will obey. It is - me - you will fear.

The glowing shape of slavery, engraved.

The solid rock, marred.

The vital spark, dulled.

Sargun leaned heavily on his lance. The mark of the binding was on the golem's chest, but Sargun did not need to look at it to know the summoning was successful. He could feel it, deep inside him. Elifor's existence was tied to his life. Sargun had expected this, as he had summoned Elifor before. But not so deep! Not so heavy!

Of course, that was his fault. The normal ritual bound the beast to sacrificial anchors, but this more ancient power was contained only by the force of Sargun's will and life.

Elifor finished materializing into the room. He was currently the size of a normal lion, small enough for Sargun to easily get on his back. His normal size was tenfold as large, and in conflict he would take this stature. For now, though, the compactness was convenient.

Oimaya began to slip off of the golem, obviously drained after merely being in contact with the intense powers in the room. The golem carefully grabbed her in his hands and began walking. "She - cannot participate - in the battle."

With a murderous glare, the beast complied. The Warstable was an immense building where the most important and magickal animals were equipped for battle. Quel would have surely begun preparations already. The time of the first strike was near at hand.

Loki marveled at the banner once it laid in his hands, scared to damage such a treasure, he raised his hands slowly and brought the banner up to idolize it once again. The banner used by Brother Bush's great forefather was considered to be sacred to most Crusaders and still was to Brother Loki, he raised it even higher for a second longer then looks towards Brother Bush.

"You have been busy indeed," Loki whispered as he glanced at his sword. Carefully adjusting the banner in order not to besmirch it. He returns the banner back to the Great Kan, "Your Grandfather..is a man of great respect.. Even in the Great North, his deeds were heard by my people.""I still admire him today, my friend."

Loki raised his hands as if to catch the dim light that danced in the darkness but grabbed only the emptiness of the air. This reminds him, "Any word from our Brothers and Sisters? It seems as though it's been hours since I arrived."

The Kan Codifier eyes flashed closed and then open once more. Two planes of existence appeared before his visage simultaneously. Brother Loki stood in front of the Great Kan in the Chamber Room, yet Brother Bush found himself before two familiar faces. Two visions, existing in the same mind. Any lesser man would be driven insane, the downfall of many great men of the Order.

"You have been busy indeed." The High Reclaimer said. It was clear that he was impressed by the sword and the banner. The Kan Codifier nodded at the comment and accepted the banner once again. "I do not think my work is finished yet, Brother. There is...well, a situation is developing."

It is time...My son. The familiar voice repeated. As he spoke to the High Reclaimer, Brother Bush responded. "I understand, Father."

The Old threatens this world once more, here at the Nexus of Power. The Chains have been broken, and what was bound is free once more. The Great Kan's father stepped back, and the other figure moved forward. Stone imitations did not do his image justice. His spirit, once meant to sleep forever in that rocky construct, placed his hands on the Kan Codifier's shoulders.

The gifts I granted you will serve you well in this task, my son. You must stop the Old Magicks before they consume all that the Order stands for.

~~~~

The High Reclaimer continued his own train of thought. "Your Grandfather..is a man of great respect...Even in the Great North, his deeds were heard by my people. I still admire him today, my friend."

"As do I, friend. I would like to see this banner flown in the upcoming battle, even if it is not by me. We shall see, for I feel the time fast approaching."

~~~

"What about my brothers? What about the Order? I cannot leave before the battle. I am the Kan Codifier!"

The Chief of the Stable's decision to invoke the Old Magicks is more important than the Scar. Should the Order win or should the Order lose, the consequences of his decision will ripple out. You must go.

It is the Serpent's will, and the decision of the Angels, that you will not take part in this fight. Another will take your place as the Robed Master...and another shall take your place as the Codifier until this task is done.

Brother Bush was shocked into silence. The thought of another bearing the title of Codifier was inconceivable to him. He was the first, and he was the last. There could not be another.

~~~"Any word from our Brothers and Sisters? It seems as though it's been hours since I arrived."

It took the Kan Codifier a moment to regain his composure on both planes. He recovered more quickly in the Chamber room. "I...have. Brother, there is something you should be warned. Brother Sargun has released Elifor...using the Old Ways. There was no sacrifice...even now, he rides the beast as though he were a common mount, the cost unpaid. He has unleashed forces he does not comprehend. I...must go. I must leave the Scar..."

~~~

"And who, if the Angels forgive my well earned boldness, shall replace me?" Brother Bush spat. His father shook his head in mild disgust. Brother Bush did not care. He was too enraged to show the respect these great men deserved. His grandfather, however, smiled softly, comfortingly. The rage began to soothe, despite the Great Kan's best efforts.

It is time, my son. I will awaken on the mortal plane once more. I shall take your place in the battle. As his grandfather spoke, Brother Bush noticed something shifting through the shadows by his side. In a moment, Mar'Zhal hung on his grandfather's hip. As long as my banner waves, I shall fight for the Order. This sword of yours, it is no Malachi-Esh'Or, but it will serve me well. As will mine serve you. Now...Go.

It is time...My son. His father said as he extended his hand.

~~~

"Brother, take this." The Great Kan said, placing the banner back into the High Reclaimer's arms. "I must go. It is yours to fly. Farewell, Brother...explain what has happened to the Deathand. May he forgive me for my flight. May my replacement serve him well.""Replacement? But...Brother...What are you...?

~~~

The Kan Codifier accepted the hand. His father didn't smile. He never did. Yet Brother Bush could tell that he was pleased. Slowly, he began to fade. It is time...I'm proud of you, son.

There was a whinny from behind the Great Kan. The reigns on his back begin to pulse with energy. Brother Bush turned to face the only thing it could be.

His grandfather's horse, Azuria. Her fur was a deep silver, her mane made of blue fire. She began to approach him as he approached her. The two worlds began to merge into one. With great respect, he rubbed her nose. "I could not have asked for a better travel companion..." He said as he mounted her. There was only the Chamber room. The spirit plane was no more, yet Azuria remained.

She's a good horse. Treat her well. A gravely voice said.

Brother Bush turned. There, in the Council room, stood the statue of his grandfather. Slowly, very slowly, the rock began to fall, one piece at a time. After what seemed like an eternity, all the rock lay at the feet of his grandfather.

Go, my son...Your journey has just begun.

The Kan Codifier nodded, and with a soft kick to Azuria's side, he walked through the shadows. His part in the battle...was over.